To Ella’s surprise, all of her near-neighbours agreed to come to her impromptu party. She and Rowena had spent time, before Rowena left, preparing jerk chicken with rice and peas. And now Ella was putting the finishing touches to the table, adding serviettes and drinking glasses. This was to be a proper Jamaican party.
Paulo was still resting. He had been jubilant when he’d come home, telling her how well he’d managed, and how he loved what he was learning to do. His explanation of the listing of every item used that he was tasked to do had Ella saying, ‘Oh, very Miss Embury!’ They had both laughed at this. And Ella added, ‘She even channels people where she thinks they should be. Look how she worked tirelessly to reunite us.’
At this, Paulo had taken her in his arms and kissed her. ‘How very glad I am that she did, mon amour.’
He’d wanted Ella to lie with him then, and she had done. No matter that she had a million things to do, this was the new her. From now on, she would take every chance to savour all that was good.
Despite how tired he was feeling, Paulo had made love to her. Not in the earth-shattering way he had done, the afternoon they had returned from visiting Christophe’s grave – the time she was convinced their new child was planted in her; but in a gentle, slow way that had taken her to a calm place, filled with love and happiness.
The September evening was balmy. And although dusk had fallen, the gas mantles inside the house threw enough light through the window for it still to be possible for everyone to mill around the garden.
Ella chatted away to a neighbour that she’d only passed the time of day with previously; and other neighbours were all enjoying each other’s company when a silence descended. Turning, Ella saw that Rowena and her family had arrived.
Shocked at the tension this caused, and at how her neighbours turned themselves away and now talked in hushed tones to one another, Ella felt a moment of embarrassment and discomfort descend. Bounding towards Rowena, she greeted her in a loud, cheerful voice, before giving her a hug.
‘Listen, everyone, this is my wonderful friend Rowena, and her family. They are from a British colony – Jamaica, no less – and her cousins here fought in the war, as did many of their fellow countrymen.’ Turning back to Rowena, Ella held her at arm’s length. ‘You look beautiful, Rowena, absolutely beautiful.’
Dressed in a long, wraparound silk frock in vivid orange with a print of small bunches of colourful flowers all over it, and a matching turban on her head, Rowena looked the picture of joy and loveliness. A picture enhanced by her lovely smile.
‘This here is me husband, Tobias, and his brother . . .’ The introductions went on and on, accompanied by a hug for Ella and a jolly handshake for Paulo. The atmosphere gradually relaxed and became positively jolly, as Rowena distributed copious amounts of her home-made rum.
‘Time for a sing-song, everyone.’
This was met with a feeling of uncertainty, as if everyone was thinking that perhaps they shouldn’t have accepted this invitation after all. But soon everyone was laughing out loud, as Rowena began to tell of her former life through song.
Paulo looked exhausted by the time the last guest left. ‘This evening showed that we can live again – despite all we have been through. It . . . was . . . wonderful, darling.’
A small worry reared up in Ella as she heard how Paulo was struggling with his breathing, but she brushed it aside, dismissing it as him being tired; that was all. Half an hour on his oxygen would sort him out, as would a good night’s sleep.
Only a few days later, this proved not to be enough. Ella was busy at home with the laundry when a knock on the door interrupted her.
‘Miss Embury, how nice . . . Oh, is there something wrong?’
‘I’m sorry, my dear, but Paulo collapsed at work. He has been taken to St Mary’s Hospital. I have come to take you.’
‘St Mary’s?’ Fear overwhelmed Ella. Her first thought was that it was the obvious place for her darling Paulo, but the second – that St Mary’s was an expensive hospital to receive treatment in – compounded her panic. ‘What happened exactly? How is he? Is he . . . will he . . . Oh God!’ As she spoke, Ella removed her wraparound pinny and ran her fingers through her hair.
‘You’ll do – now come along, I have a taxi waiting; we can talk on the way.’
Miss Embury told her that Paulo had been working and seemed all right, when he’d suddenly become very short of breath. His colleagues had helped him to his oxygen, but it didn’t ease him. Within minutes he turned very blue and fell to the floor.
‘One of the men working with Paulo said that Paulo had told him his doctor had worked miracles for him, and had said, in conversation, that the doctor’s name was Dr Walker. So I sent for him immediately. It was Dr Walker who ordered an ambulance to take Paulo to St Mary’s.’
Ella sat back. Her body trembled. Please God let Paulo be all right.
‘Try not to worry. By the time Dr Walker had administered some medicine and massaged Paulo’s chest, Paulo was responding and the colour was coming back to his face. I’m sure the hospital was just a precaution.’
‘Thank you.’ My poor, dear Paulo. Please, please let him get well. But her prayers were not all for Paulo. If only I could stop thinking about the cost. How on earth am I going to pay Dr Walker, let alone an ambulance and the hospital fees. Please help me, dear God – help me.
When they arrived at the hospital they were met by Dr Walker. ‘My dear, it isn’t good news. Paulo has suffered a heart attack. He is very poorly.’
Shock rendered Ella unable to speak.
‘Follow me. He is in a special unit. Please be as quiet as you can, because the patients in this ward are all extremely ill and are dying. Peace is part of their treatment.’
Oh God, Paulo is in a ward for the dying!
The man lying in the hospital bed didn’t look like her Paulo. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes closed and set deep in their sockets, his lips a purplish-blue.
‘Paulo, darling, it’s me – Ella.’ Her lips were close to his ear as she whispered the words. Paulo didn’t respond. For a moment Ella watched as his shallow breathing took in oxygen. She willed it to help him. Then, turning to the doctor, she asked, ‘What are his chances? Can I take him home and nurse him there?’
Dr Walker shook his head. ‘Not good. I’m sorry, Ella, but you have been prepared for this. Paulo is very weak and could suffer another heart attack at any time. He wouldn’t be able to recover from such an incident. But there is nothing we can do to prevent that happening. We can treat him and hope he recovers, but that is all.’
‘Then I will take him home. It is the very best place for him. I can nurse him. I have the equipment that you have here: the oxygen and the medication.’
‘I agree. Yes, maybe that would be the best thing. You are a nurse, all but for the papers that state you are qualified, I know that. And yes, although there are now extra medicines that Paulo will need, you do have most of them, and you administer them. But do you have help? You will need someone to help you to turn him, and so on.’
‘Yes, I have a friend who will help me.’
‘Very well.’
‘But surely not, Doctor,’ Miss Embury said. ‘If you do this, you are saying that Paulo is going home to die. Surely he needs the care of the hospital.’
‘I’m sorry, Miss Embury, but as Ella has already realized, that is what is happening, and I am a great believer that everyone deserves to die at home. I will order the ambulance for later today, Ella. That will give you time to put some preparations in place.’
Ella couldn’t answer him. His words about Paulo dying had hit her hard. Yes, she had always known she wouldn’t have him for long, but to think he might die at any moment . . . No, no, that can’t happen. It won’t happen!
‘Oh, my dear, how are you going to manage? What possessed you to want to have Paulo home? Surely you can see that he would be better off in hospital?’
They were on their way back to Ella’s home. ‘No, Miss Embury. I know exactly what you are thinking, but no. If Paulo is going to die, then it has to be at home, with me. Not in some clinical room with strangers around him.’
‘Yes, I can see that. Look, I can offer you some help. Just let me know whenever you need it. I can come round after I finish work, on occasions, and help you to bathe Paulo.’
‘Thank you for all you have done for us, and continue to do. Yes, I would like that. I also have a friend who can come during the day, every day. She will help me, I am sure. It will all work out.’
A month later, with Paulo a little improved in his health and waiting in a taxi, to follow all of their worldly goods – what was left of them, as Ella had sold most to pay for his medicine – Ella locked the front door of their lovely home for the last time.
Unable to pay the hospital fees, she had been before the debtors’ court. The court had demanded that the bank pay the fees, as there was enough collateral in Ella’s apartment. After doing so, the bank had immediately foreclosed on her, repossessing her apartment. She had been given three weeks to leave.
With her income solely coming from Paulo’s pension, she’d looked for the cheapest accommodation she could find. She’d found a room to rent in Cricklewood, in the same street that Paddy had lived in.
‘D – don’t cry, mon . . . amour.’
‘I’m not, darling; it’s the rain. Right, driver, we’re all done. Follow that van in front, please.’ As the taxi pulled away, Ella smiled at Paulo. ‘What does it matter, as long as we are together? Now, don’t worry about a thing; everything will turn out. Rowena has all her menfolk travelling to our new home. They did a sterling job of packing everything and loading it on the van.’
‘Yes. We are lucky to – to have such fr – friends.’
‘Don’t talk, my love. Save all your energy. You have made such wonderful progress. Dr Walker says that you are a miracle.’
‘Y – you are my miracle.’
Paulo’s eyes closed. Although he’d come this far and was a lot stronger than he had been, his heart was now damaged. It was only a matter of time. But that time could be extended with the supply of expensive drugs. Somehow she would find the money for them. I have to. To this end, Ella knew in her heart there was one thing she needed to do – had to do. I must find the money to go to Poland, I must. Surely my father will help me, when he knows the position I am in? And it is only there that I can hope to try and claim my inheritance.
So far, God had answered her prayers in keeping Paulo alive, and in his improvement. Ella now prayed fervently to Him to make it possible that she could go to her homeland.
Suddenly, Paulo woke. ‘D – did you . . . let Miss Embury know that we are moving?’
Telling a little white lie, Ella said that she had. But how could she? How could she face the shame of her position? Not face-to-face anyway. So she’d taken the coward’s way out and had left a note at the office:
Sorry that I haven’t been in touch. I have been extremely busy. Paulo is improving. To help that, we are moving to warmer climes. I will write when we are settled. Thank you for all you have done for us. I will always be in your debt.
Ella Rennaise x
By taking this way out, Ella knew she hadn’t avoided shame. It was a shameful way to treat someone as good as Miss Embury had been to her and Paulo. But it is for the best, and at the end of the day I had no choice. It was either that or admit the disgrace of our position. I could not do that.
As the car wove its way through the damp streets of London, Ella’s tears matched the raindrops tumbling down the windows. They were silent tears. Tears that she couldn’t stop, but tears she kept hidden from her darling Paulo, who had once more closed his eyes.